The Window

There is a window,
Next to a garden.
The window is clear,
Has no secret to hide.

Everyday this window is looked through or into.
Never lying, never deceiving,
Never playing tricks with your mind,
Just showing what’s on the other side.

There stands the lone window,
Looking out to all the beautiful flowers,
With people carelessly passing by.

The window sees everything,
But yet nothing.
And tells no one what is saw,
Let alone heard.





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